The Splendor and Chaos of Africa

A Journey of Wonder, Grit, and Self-Discovery Across 1970s Africa

When twenty-year-old Cathy L. Patrenos left behind her nursing degree, her possessions, and the safety of home for a thirty-day African safari, she never imagined it would stretch into a yearlong odyssey across an unpredictable continent. The Splendor and Chaos of Africa chronicles that extraordinary year—1974—a time when overland travel meant true immersion, surrendering to both beauty and danger.

From the golden tombs of Egypt to the raw tensions of apartheid South Africa, Cathy’s path unfolded across deserts, jungles, and borderlands teetering on the edge of political unrest. In a weathered British army truck with a band of adventurous strangers, she faced civil war in Ethiopia, crossed the burning sands of Sudan, and skirted the perils of Idi Amin’s Uganda. Along the way, she forged lifelong bonds, grew beyond her years, and discovered what it means to live fully in the unknown.

Told with humor, insight, and unflinching honesty, this memoir captures a rare time in travel history—when maps were unreliable, love was unexpected, and every mile brought the possibility of awe or chaos. For readers drawn to the open road, self-reinvention, or the untamed spirit of 1970s adventure, The Splendor and Chaos of Africa is a transporting, unforgettable read.

Start the journey—discover The Splendor and Chaos of Africa today.

Excerpt from the book

I have finally made my escape, like a convict fleeing incarceration, or a spy absconding with top secret documents… work, school, the daily grind—the humdrum of it all. Embracing every moment of my long-awaited journey abroad, I have arrived in London, which serves as a stopover on my way to Africa. Wow, I am really in London, home to Big Ben and big red double-decker buses, Bobbies on bicycles, but not two-by-two as the song goes, miniskirts, and the cultural icon known as Twiggy. And of course, it’s the place where the British invasion of amazing music began. It is a dream come true. My head is whirling. I’m dizzy and shaky, even a little nauseated. Or perhaps I am just jet-lagged.

Grateful that I made it to my first destination, safe and sound, my unwarranted anxious concerns and worries drift behind me, fade into the distance… thoughts of the plane crashing, visions of a hideous, hairy gremlin creature as seen in an episode of The Twilight Zone, pacing on the wing of the plane while in flight, tinkering with the engine. Or maybe some masked, devious criminal accosting me upon my arrival in the big, strange but wonderful city. As it turns out, all is splendid and my adventure is only beginning, developing and flourishing like a storybook in the making, with me as Princess Protagonist.

The flights to Chicago, Toronto, and finally London were essentially uneventful, thankfully my luggage having made the trip in one piece. But I must confess that when leaving Phoenix, my apprehension crested like a mounting wave on a fierce ocean, embarking all alone for the very first time on a lengthy trip to so many strange and far-away places. Still, I am quite proud of myself for making the long dreamed-about journey, one imagined for so long, taking my nursing boards, and without even knowing whether or not I’d passed, heading out on the trip of a lifetime. “Can’t you at least wait until you get your test results back?” Mom asked. “I don’t understand what the rush is.” Well, I’ve never exactly been patient. So… bravo to me! Yes, I am indeed brazenly proud of myself.

Initially, sitting all alone in a window seat, heading northeast in the half-filled plane, I felt a surge of loneliness. We had only briefly been in the air and I already missed my family, which seemed a bit odd since I couldn’t wait to get away from them. And there was no denying the existence of a wee bit of anger grating under my skin at my two alleged chums and fellow nursing students who had vowed to accompany me on this adventure, come hell or high water—we swore on each other’s lives, talked about it ad nauseam. But then they bailed at the last minute. Who does that? Would Cheech just up and abandon Chong during the recording of their debut album?

“Sorry, Chong… you’re on your own, figure it out—gotta go smoke this big, fat doobie. See ya, pal.”

I think not, but then again, it would be just like Cheech to leave Chong in a lurch over a big, fat doobie. I suppose it just goes to show that you can’t truly depend on anyone but yourself, and maybe your mother… just maybe…